Prologue

 

Nightmare

 

THE dome of the great silver platter lifted, exposing Arabella’s nakedness to the gaze of the guests. She gave a muffled shriek as they looked into her red, tear-streaked eyes as they stared out wildly over her gag and saw the full horror of her humiliation.

She was mounted on an angled metal brace bolted to the base of the platter. A leather strap was pinched tight about her neck, forcing her chin up and head back, so that her body was bowed outward for all to see. Her arms were bound tightly behind her with a strap above her elbows, thrusting forward her shapely breasts: breasts that glittered with the heads of a dozen drawing pins that had been thrust into their creamy softness.

Her wrists were tied to the crossed ankles of her bent and wide-splayed legs. She was sitting with her anus impaled by a thick rubber dildo mounted on the base of the platter. Her body trembled with the stretching of her back passage, even as her distended anus sucked on the intruder like a lolly. The tendons of her inner thighs stood out as she strained to hold her knees wide, vainly trying to prevent the sprig of holly whose stalk had been pushed up her vagina from scratching the lips of her love mouth any further.

She was resting in a golden puddle of her own urine, ejected in fear as the dildo had forced its way up inside her. This mingled with the droplets trickling down from her soaking hair where her unknown assailants had added their own final insult before they had closed the dome of the platter and let her be carried off to the banqueting room.

Her uncle and guardian, Major Haverecot-gore, looked down at her in disbelief while shock and horror filled the guests’ faces. Even the naked bondslaves mounted decoratively on the walls could see her shame.

Distantly she heard her uncle saying foolishly: ‘Good God, Arabella! What are you doing there?’

Then the guests began laughing at her, mocking her shame and nakedness. And her uncle was laughing as well. Even the bondslaves were laughing. She had been disgraced before them all. It was like a nightmare... a nightmare!

Arabella Westlake sat up in her bed with a jerk.

Morning sunlight glowed warmly about the drawn curtains of her bedroom. Yes, it had been a nightmare, but as her sore body testified, also a replay of the terrible truth.

Mysterious masked men really had kidnapped and humiliated her, substituting her for the slave girl who should have been on the silver platter. They had disgraced her and turned her orderly, privileged world upside down and made her feel… no, she could not accept what they had made her feel.

But had been so terribly wronged. Yes, that was what she had keep in her mind above all else. And for that she would have her revenge!